Collections
by Lila B
Summary: 100 theme challenge Rose and Dimitri style! 100 mini-fics with different themes each chapter all based around Rose and Dimitri's relationship. (ratings will vary according to chapters. Starting at M just in case)
1. Introductions

**Hello readers!**

It's been a little while since I last wrote something, so I thought I would try getting my feet wet again by writing little drabble-type fics in a series called "Collections". I got the idea from the 100 Day Challenges I see all over with other writers and artists, so I thought I might try it out in hopes I could get back into writing again. Many will vary with ratings (but I'll mention them before hand) and a mixture of All-Human to Alternate-Universe type plots that I'll throw at Rose and Dimitri. I have no idea how often I will update, but hopefully I'll have one hundred mini-fics/chapters when the time is up!

Please feel free to comment, and/or review with any ideas you come up that I need to change, or focus more on since I'm still fresh with writing. Any ideas for future chapters are welcomed, too! :)

~ Lila B

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Chapter one: Rose Hathaway is a hit man well known for her clean work and impeccable work ethic. Dimitri Belikov is her mysterious employer who hired Rose for a hit on a man who owed him too much money. What happens once the hit is preformed? What does Dimitri think of Rose's work? And what does Rose think of her employer? AH AU. Rated T.

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**~`~ Introductions ~`~**

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Today was the perfect day to perform a hit.

The crisp fall weather nipped at the air forcing your breath to catch if you inhaled too deeply through your mouth. There was no wind and the sun was hidden under the overcast preventing a glare off the windows around me. I watched the crowd below from my nest in an old apartment undergoing renovations and was closed off to the public. It was nearly noon which brought out the lunch crowd from their offices and desk jobs. The subway was only a block north from my current location, which only added to the copious amount of people nearby.

I frowned, and blew on my hands before rubbing them together to heat them up. No, it wasn't so cold I was worried about frostbite, but it was cold enough to turn my flesh an interesting shade of bluish purple instead of its normal tan. I pushed the thoughts of my hands out of my head letting it be free from distractions. I was here for a reason, and I never leave without hitting my target.

His name was Stan Alto, a typical middle-aged white male with a stable job at the office but had a small problem when it came to underground gambling. Now, I didn't ask how much the man owed my client, who went by the name Belikov, because it was none of my business. All I did know was Alto owed enough and Belikov was willing to pay a large sum to insure he got the point across that you don't mess with him. Or else. So now I was gazing down my Knights SR-25 sniper rifle in search for Alto in the crowd. I had watched him for a little over a week now scouting out how he got to and from work, where he went for lunch, where he stopped to pick up a coffee, and the buildings around those locations to insure I had a safe place to rest in wait without be stumbled on or, or discovered. Through the telescope I watched the people as they busied themselves with the need to find food to fill their stomachs. Their breath created little puffs as they walked making what looked like smoke signals with every move. I glanced down at the watch I wore and saw it was quarter to noon.

Almost time.

I checked over my rifle one last time insuring the safety was turned off, and I had two rounds ready for use. Of course, I only needed the one, but I always loaded the other in the cartridge out of precaution and habit. The gun was cold, and my hand felt stiff yet the adrenaline started to flow through my veins. I could feel my muscles coming alive with anticipation. It was better than being high. My stomach knotted but it wasn't out of sickness. It was excitement.

I turned carefully, taking my time to gaze over the crowd, when I rested my attention to the doors of Alto's office building. I sat there in wait. If this was a normal situation, my pulse would probably be pounding in my chest and my hands and face would be sweaty, but this wasn't a normal situation.

I did this for a living. I was a killer.

My heart was beating as slowly as it had when I was reading the paper only a few hours earlier while drinking my morning coffee at Starbucks. My hands were only cold from the weather, but not clammy. I kept my mind sharp and ready. I've shot guns my entire life but I was still cautious. You have to be a little OCD when you're a hit man. No details can go unnoticed, and nothing can be left out, or forgotten. A single twitch of my finger, and I could kill a civilian, but I was better than that. I only kill my targets.

Well, usually.

The glass doors opened and I watched as Alto and two other men and a woman stepped out, and started to make their way towards the intersection to cross the street. Alto was in the middle with two men on his right and the woman on his left. I smirked. If Belikov wanted to make a statement, I was sure going to give him one. The group stopped in the crowd as they waiting for the sigh to allow them to walk across the street. I watched as the woman on Alto's left leaned forwards to speak to the man on the end. Alto was taking off his glasses and cleaning the lens as the group spoke. Seconds ticked by, and I adjusted how I was crouched. I was wearing a disguise which would allow me to blend seamlessly into the herd of office workers. Crouching in a pencil skirt was a little awkward while trying to shoot my rifle. I'm sure this would have made an interesting picture.

The light changed, and the crown started to move. Alto was holding his glasses out in front of him as if to see if he cleaned the spot when I pulled the trigger. There was a slight hissing sound as the bullet left the gun. I paid for the best silencer money could get you and used the sounds of my surrounds as well to drown out the gunshot. Through the scope, I watched as Alto suddenly dropped to the ground, tipped back slightly. There was a scream from the woman beside him, followed by some shouting when suddenly the crowd split like a sea in the middle of the cross walk around Alto's fallen form. Blood was flowing freely from the bullet wound between his eyebrows. Moving swiftly, I disassembled the gun and carefully packed it away into my large brief case and began my decent. It wasn't very difficult to maneuver around the construction materials and tools left by the workers in my heels. I had spent most of my late teenaged years in five and six inch stilettos so my measly three inch heals pumps were nothing. The stairs creaked under my weight as I moved rapidly down the steps. I knew if I went through the same gap in the walls I could come out of the alley way and turn down the street where Alto lay. In the distance, I could hear the chorus of people shouting and sirens not too far away. I slipped between the boards, being mindful of my brief case, and came down the alley way towards the mass of people stopping to see the body of the dead man. I slipped into the flow of people heading towards the intersection when I easily got to the other side bringing me closer to the subway. Police and the ambulance arrived on scene as I turned the corner and began walking down the stairs leading me to the underground.

I kept my head down as I entered the subway, and stuffed my free hand into my pocket until I sat near the window staring out into the darkening tunnel. People bustled behind me in search for a spot, or for their friends they were going to lunch with. My brief case was resting across my lap, and my hands lazily lay on top of the brown leather, thumbing through the pages of my pocket crossword book. No, I wasn't much for crosswords, but it made me appear normal, and maybe even a little innocent to the crimes I have committed. I would send Belikov a message about my completed hit once I was further away from the scene, though it was still another thirty minutes from here. The cell phone I was meant to use to call him was still hidden in the café I had dropped by before arriving near Alto's office this morning. A part of me still hoped it went unnoticed taped to the bottom of the booth I frequented, but another part of me, the larger, more rational part, knew it would still be there.

I was filling in thirteen across, 'accurate', when a body slipped into the seat next to mine, and a low rumbling tone murmured, "Ms. Hathaway,"

My heart stopped, and I forced myself not to flinch to the name. My name. I turned my head and offered the stranger my biggest 'I don't know what you mean' smile. "Sorry, but you have the wrong woman."

"No, I do believe you are Ms. Hathaway." He mused softly. He had an accent, something Slavic like Russian or Romanian, but I was betting more the former. "I am never wrong."

I couldn't help but stare at him for his bluntness. This man was large, both tall and broad, who occupied all of his side of the seat and threatened to occupy mine as well. This age was older than mine, but hard to place between late twenties to early thirties. He had Slavic features that matched his accent with a strong nose, hard jaw line, thin lips turned up slightly in the corners, and dark eyes. His hair was long and tied at the nape of his neck, but strands of the dark brown locks curled just under his chin where they couldn't tuck into the elastic. He wore a crisp dark suite that seemed to scream money and power. I would have found him intimidating, even frightening, if it hadn't been for the cowboy duster he wore.

I turned away to my crossword and finished writing U-R-A-T-E in 'accurate'. "Sorry, you have the wrong woman." I repeated, "I don't know anyone by Hathaway."

I had no idea how he could have guess my name since I altered my appearance to look nothing like Rosemarie Hathaway. I had bound my bust to minimize it as much as possible; added padding around my midsection, thighs, and arms to make myself three sizes larger; my normally tan complexion was turned pale with makeup; my dark eyes were green, and my hair was blonde instead of black with the wig I wore. I even added wrinkles around my eyes and mouth to look more middle-aged than twenty five.

He leaned closer to me, looming over my smaller frame by draping an arm over the back of my seat. "Would it make it easier for you to admit who I say you are if I introduced myself?"

His aftershave was very subtle, but now with him closer to me, I could smell the rich spices and sandalwood releasing off his skin. He smelt good.

I glanced warily his direction from the corner of my eye. "Move away from me, sir. You are making me uncomfortable by being this close, and making false accusations about a woman I have never heard of."

His lips twitched as if he were about to smile, but didn't. He offered me his hand. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Hathaway. I am Dimitri Belikov."

Belikov.

Dimitri Belikov, to be precise.

But how did he know who I was? I even wore a disguise when I was called to meet the man about Alto's hit. No one has seen what I really looked like in years. Could this man really be Belikov? My Belikov?

I narrowed my eyes, and frowned as I shook his hand cautiously. His hand was warm and large, but rough with calluses and lumpy scarred tissue. "Samantha Lannister," I introduced myself, "And I'm still not this Hathaway person."

Dimitri only leaned away to sit properly once more. "I enjoyed your flare for making a statement, Ms. Hathaway. It was a clean kill."

I hesitated. Dimitri knew about my hit, how I killed Alto, and he knew who I was even when I wasn't me. Was it easier to pretend I was Samantha Lannister, or was it easier to cave in and admit to him that it was indeed me who made the hit, and I was Rosemarie Hathaway? I was torn between the training I received many years ago to never admit to a mark, or a client, who I really was, and to fully admit who I was in order to gain more work. Belikov was offering me a lot of money for this one hit on Alto. What else could he offer if I agreed to work with him?

I sighed and closed my crossword book around my pen to hold my place. "Thank you, Mr. Belikov."

"I would like to work with you for any future employments, Ms. Hathaway. I have heard many good things about your skill set, and wish to exploit them after witnessing today's endeavors."

I nodded. "Of course, Mr. Belikov."

Dimitri shifted to stand out of his seat. "We can discuss our means of delivery of payment over dinner, Ms. Hathaway." He said while standing.

I blinked, stunned. "Dinner?"

He offered me a small smile then. "Of course. Be ready by six thirty, Ms. Hathaway."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Dimitri had already disembarked the subway car when we were stopped. I sat back, deflated by the encounter, and idly opened my crossword book again to stare at the pages. How did he figure out who I was? How did he know who I was while in disguise?

More importantly, how did he know where I was staying?!

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**Please review!**


	2. Happy

**Sorry this is a short O/S, but my brain stopped functioning lately with all the medical stress I've been under (Yay hip injury!) Thank you for all of your who have added 'Collections' to their favorites, and had added it to watch lists. And thank you to the reviewers! That really made my day seeing those! No idea when the next update is since I'm spending the next month traveling between Canada and the States (But not staying long enough in either country to actually get some writing done!) Though I hope to have something else up soon.**

**Please feel free to submit any feedback. All is welcomed**

**~ Lila B**

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Chapter 2: (Set within the VA Universe in the first book) With Lissa's attempts to get back at Mia by turning all the royals against her, Rose is beginning to notice a change with her best friend. And not the good kind. Worried that Lissa's ploy for revenge is starting to take a toll on her, Rose reflects on what she has noticed within her bond, and her own classmates. While sifting through memories, her focus wanders off onto a different topic in mind... RxD Rated K

**(And yes, I did quote the book, so obviously those words in italics aren't mind, but Richelle Mead's.)**

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~`~ **Happy **~`~

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I sighed, and shoved my pre-calculus homework away. My mind couldn't focus on the equations due in the morning any longer. They crumbled together by my computer monitor and the text book fell off the edge and onto the ground with a satisfying thud. It was one of the great things about not having a lot of belongings in my dorm room; I didn't have to clean up much.

No, my mind was elsewhere tonight. Well, by elsewhere I mean drifting from my homework and not into my best friend's head for once. Though Lissa was still a part of my lack of focus. She was beginning to worry me more than usual lately. Project Brainwash seemed to be the only thing she cared about lately, and what the other royals were doing. Not that I really minded, of course. It was nice seeing her slipping back into our old routines before we left the Academy, but at the same time it was odd seeing our old friends never questioning how she gained so much social status after how much we both had lost once we left. Christian seemed to be the only one who really caught onto what was happening. That part worried me, too, but mostly it was what it was doing to Lissa. Through our bond I could feel the darkness slowly seeping into Lissa just like it had before. Her thoughts lingered on darker subjects, like cutting, again, while her exterior persona focused mostly on parties, dresses, and boys. She didn't even like Aaron! Not that I really cared about her using him because he was a sheep, but it worried me that Lissa had no problem using him at all.

My Lissa would never do that. She hates using compulsion when she doesn't have to.

I shook my head, and sighed again as I leaned against the back of my chair. Only if Mia hadn't gotten Ralf and Jesse to say those lies about me, then we wouldn't be in this mess. Damn, that little doll was really starting to both me. Lissa wouldn't have to worry about what the school thought to me if it hadn't been for Mia. I was the one who should be protecting her, not the other way around.

It didn't help that she was also feeling stressed from having to organize the decorations for the dance coming up, or that she still hasn't forgiven me for sending the guardians to the chapel after she cut herself. I think her magic was starting to take a toll on her, too, after healing my ankle from my fall. I finally figured out that her emotions, how her magic affects her, and our bond were all connected somehow. I just wished I knew how, exactly. My Lissa-Karp-Vladimir theory hadn't progressed much with all my focus being on Lissa and how her magic is starting to make her crazy again. Though Christian had gotten me those books, and I had skimmed through them, I still couldn't quiet piece together how my best friend, my old crazy teacher, and a very dead guy, were all connected.

My ankle felt hot, as if it too was remembering the sensations of Lissa healing me. I felt like such a loser after spending the entire day without any fault while watching the girls, and to be taken down by a bench. Though my ankle was probably in bad shape before Liss got to it, it was my ego that was hurt the most. Damn. It was embarrassing how many trips I have made to the clinic this month alone. I seriously hope it doesn't become a new habit waking up in that white room after being knocked unconscious every other day. Well, if Dimitri was at my side like he was after the bench incident, I wouldn't mind. My thoughts drifted from Lissa to Dimitri, remembering how easily I had joked with in after waking up.

"_I was taken down by a bench," I groaned._

"_What?"_

"_I survived the whole day guarding Lissa, and you guys said I did a good job. Then, I get back here and meet my downfall in the form of a bench." Ugh. "Do you know how embarrassing it is? And all those guys saw, too."_

"_It wasn't your fault," he said. "No one knew the bench was rotted. It looked fine."_

"_Still. I should have just stuck to the sidewalk like a normal persona. The other novices are going to give me shit when I get back."_

_His lips held back a smile. "Maybe presents will cheer you up."_

_I sat up straighter. "Presents?"_

_The smile escaped, and he handed me a small box with a piece of paper. _

"_This is from Prince Victor."_

_Surprised that Victor would have given me anything, I read the note. It was just a few lines, hastily scrawled in pen._

**_Rose—_**

**_I'm very happy to see you didn't suffer any serious injuries from your fall. Truly, it is a miracle. You lead a charmed life, and Vasilisa is lucky to have you._**

_"That is nice of him," I said, opening the box. Then I saw what was inside. "Whoa. Very nice."_

_It was the rose necklace, the one Lissa had wanted to get me bout couldn't afford. I held it up, looping its chain over my hand so the glittering, diamond-covered rose hung free._

_"This is pretty extreme for a get-well present," I noted, recalling the price._

_"He actually bought it in honor of you doing so well on your first day as an official guarding. He saw you and Lissa looking at it."_

_"Wow." It was all I could say. "I don't think I did that good of a job."_

_"I do."_

_Grinning, I placed the necklace back in the box and set it on a nearby table. "You did say 'presents,' right? Like more than one?"_

_He laughed outright, and the sound wrapped around me like a caress. God, I loved the sound of his laugh. "This is from me."_

_He handed me a small, plain bag. Puzzled and excited, I opened it up. Lip gloss, the kind I liked. I'd complained to him a number of times how I was running out, but I'd never thought he was paying attention._

_"How'd you manage to buy this? I saw you the whole time at the mall."_

_"Guardian secrets."_

_"What's this for? For my first day?"_

_"No," he said simply. "Because I thought it would make you happy."_

I looked back to my dresser where the box holding Victor's gift sat next to the tube of lip gloss Dimitri had given me. A dopey smile spread across my lips in remembrance of how Dimitri had looked when he handed the bag over to me. He was right. It did make me happy.

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**Next theme: Life**


	3. Life

**Just a very short drabble before I head off to the land of Las Vegas with work. A warning to those who haven't read up till Spirit Bound or Last Sacrifice because this 'chapter' does contain some information that might spoil something if you didn't know already.**

**Oh! Yay to everyone who added 'Collections' to their favs and their alerts! It makes me so happy to see so many reading this :)**

**~ Lila**

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Chapter 3: (Set towards the end of Spirit Bound, but a little before Last Sacrifice in the Vampire Academy Universe.) Now that he is released from his torments of being a Strigoi, Dimitri's life has been turned upside down once more. Memory lapses force Dimitri to relive what his life had been after he had turned, and doubt there is any way to forgive himself for it. post-strigoi!Dimitri rated T (ish, well not really, but eh) (Sorry, no Rose this time)

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~`~`**Life `~`~**

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They are afraid of me.

I could feel them watching from the moment I had entered the café till now, a half hour later. I made my movements slow to insure I could not startle anyone and caught the guardians following me to force submission. It was a difficult task, however. Even before I had turned Strigoi I had quick reflexes, and despised being methodical when it was no required. I was so used to being able to reach for the change in the pockets of my pants without causing any raise for alarm. It pained me to watch other flinch away from the mundane movements due to what they thought I still was.

A murderer.

Memories of my past transgressions still haunted me with the new found ability to sleep; to dream, but only of dreams I did not wish to have. I was a killer even before I was turned, though back then I killed the murders of innocents before I became one. The deaths I had claimed in the past were justifiable, but now they meant nothing. I had sworn to protect through who could not protect themselves; I lay my life on the ling for theirs.

_They come first._

And I slaughtered them all with my new found strength and power.

Shuddering, I forced he memories to the back of my mind and focused on the present. My coffee was half empty in front of me and most likely ice cold. I held a western in my hands, but didn't process the words on the pages I had read. Vasilisa said it would be normal for my mind to lapse into the memories I had while Strigoi, though she hoped the reoccurrence of these lapses would subside once I was used to being a dhampire again. I, on the other hand, doubted I could ever forget the pain and suffering I had caused during those past eight months.

I idly flipped back through my novel trying to remember where I had last been before the lapse. Pausing, I started at my hands for a moment knowing how much destruction they had produced when I was not myself, but something far worse. It was still difficult to grasp I was no longer the monster, but myself again. I caught myself at times thinking like how I had while a Strigoi, and not as a guardian, or even a dhampire. My muscles fought the same way as well. They still tensed and locked when I am about to step out into direct sunlight, as if a warning I would not survive if the rays hit my flesh. I suppose muscle memory and whatever psychosomatic trauma I had faced would take much longer to break than the few weeks I have been returned to my original state.

I shook my head and closed my novel unable to focus.

_Original state._

It was an odd way to describe what had happened to me when Vasilisa staked me with her Spirit power. Most don't believe it, and at times I, too, doubt that it actually happened. It seemed impossible to return a Strigoi back to its original form, and yet, somehow, she did. I was Dimitri Belikov, a dhampire, once more. I still had questions to answers I did not have. What had brought be back from that time and place? Why was I given this second change after all the evil I have done to innocent people?

More questions tumbled into my mind, doubling and tripling in numbers so quickly it was giving me a headache. The pain was oddly comforting; a reminder I was still alive, and now had the chance to redeem myself for everything I had done as a Strigoi.

If it were even possible.

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**Please, R&R!**

next theme: **Relationship **


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